


Luke Triton and the Illusionary Misgivings

by banjkazfan



Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Confusion, Gen, Mystery, Mysticism, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:03:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4173966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banjkazfan/pseuds/banjkazfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Luke wakes alone in a strange village with no memory of how he got there, he must uncover the truth behind the village of Validilene. Every aspect of his relationship with Professor Layton will be tested, and Luke must find the truth behind the lies in his faltering memory. But how can he uncover the truth without the professor's guiding hand?  Crossposted from Fanfiction.  Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmare

_The young boy's eyes snapped open as a horrible cacophony of noise assaulted his eardrums. The noise had pulled him from a state of unconsciousness, but there was no indication as to what in the world was causing such an awful noise. That was shoved to the back of his mind, however, as his surroundings began to roll. He screamed out in terror as he struggled to keep up with the rotating room, wondering just what was going on. As his feet moved over his head for the third time in a minute, though, Luke Triton realized that there had been someone else with him._

_Professor Layton. It hit him like the piece of flying debris that met his abdomen, and both the pain and the epiphany winded him. The professor had been with him, though he had woken up alone. The world suddenly felt cold, dark, and lonely. The professor had been with him, but why did he suddenly feel such a sense of dread? As the fear settled into his stomach, he found that the world had stopped spinning, and Luke immediately set out to find the other man._

_"P-professor!" Luke cried out, frantically scrambling on his hands and knees to find his mentor in the darkness. He turned in every direction, searching helplessly, all to no avail; the professor was nowhere to be seen._

_Just as Luke had given up all hope of ever seeing his mentor again, he heard the professor's strong voice calling out: "Hold on! I'm coming!"_

_"Professor!" Luke shouted, a second wind coursing through him and he pushed himself up. He set off running to meet the voice's owner, eyes blurring with tears of joy. He still didn't know what had happened to them, but something in his gut told him that he had come very, very close to losing the older man forever. Suddenly, the professor appeared before him, running towards Luke with a determined look on his face. Instinctively, Luke reached out his arms – finally, the professor was here, and they were both safe – but without warning the professor's body passed through his own. With a startled shout, Luke lost his balance and fell to his knees, scraping them badly against the coarse metal ground. When he recovered from the momentary shock, he turned back to see whoever his mentor had actually been running to._

_Suddenly, his whole world rolled once more, and Luke was startled to find himself abruptly looking down on a scene: his own broken and battered body, lying not three hundred feet from where Professor Layton cradled Flora Reinhold's perfect, flawless body; there wasn't a scratch on her. "Flora, dear," Layton begged, trying to keep his voice from cracking as he tenderly brushed a piece of hair off of the woman's face. "Can you hear me?" Luke was both fascinated and horrified by the appearance of a glistening tear on the older man's cheek – the professor didn't cry! It was a horribly ungentlemanly thing to do!_

_Flora began to stir slightly in his arms, opening her large brown eyes and smiling sweetly up at the professor. "O-oh, P...professor," her bell-like voice quavered (though it sounded as if she was forcing the tremor more than anything). "You're alright..." Her tiny hand weakly reached up to touch the professor's cheek. A relieved look crossed Layton's face as he placed his own large hand over Flora's, watching her lovingly for a moment._

_"Oh, thank goodness," Layton murmured after a long, borderline-uncomfortable moment, pulling Flora tightly to his own body. "I was afraid that you had been harmed, my dear..."  
"What?!" Luke shouted, trying to run to the professor, but finding his body stuck to the ceiling, forcing him to watch the scene play out. "Flora's fine! Professor, I—I'm the one who needs you..." He darted a glance down at his body, watching the color fade from it with horror. "Professor, I'm dying!" he screamed, voice rising to a hysterical pitch. "I'm dying and you don't even know it!" _

_Suddenly, the scene faded away, and Luke watched with trepidation as Layton faded away before his very eyes. His attention was drawn away from the melting background as Flora carefully pushed herself up to her knees and stood, the world rolling once more to bring them down to the same level; he moved while she remained eerily frozen in place. Once he could see her properly, she slowly began approaching Luke. He was once more stuck, unable to move away from her as she stepped closer. The young woman smiled demurely as she stopped in front of him, stroking a hand down his cheek and leaning in to whisper into his ear._

_"Oh, Luke," she murmured, "I am the one who needs the professor. Don't you understand?" She pulled back and her sweet little smile morphed into an evil smirk. "He doesn't need you...all of his attentions are focused on me, tending to my every little whim..." She laughed at this, her melodic voice sounding so lovely despite the evil laugh tearing from deep within her throat. "After all, Luke…isn't that what a_ gentleman _does?"_


	2. Awakening

Luke snapped awake with a startled cry, looking around wildly before realizing that he had no idea where he was—the rustic little hut was as unfamiliar as the woman in it, who gave a start at his shout. Luke readied to yell out at her, but was startled into silence as he realized that he was shirtless, wrapped up tightly in bandages. He blushed furiously and scrambled for the blanket that he found bunched around his knees. The woman flushed a bit as well in what he assumed was sympathy, averting her eyes to save Luke any further embarrassment. After an uncomfortable moment that allowed Luke to cover himself, the woman carefully glanced up to see if he was decent. Seeing that he was, she allowed a small smile as she tilted her head to the side and spoke.

“Good morning,” she said lightly. “How are you feeling? We’ve been worried about you.”

Luke could only reply by rubbing his forehead and groaning at the ache in his ribs. He was tempted to lie back down in hopes that the pain would subside, but he knew that he couldn’t possibly be so rude to someone who had clearly been helping him. “I’ve been better,” he admitted after a pause.

Her forehead furrowed in reply, and she nodded. “That’s to be expected,” she said slowly. “You’ve been through quite a lot, young man.”

Luke finally took a moment to look at his surroundings. He was lying on a makeshift mattress in the middle of a small hut. Surprisingly, the floor beneath him was soft grass; he idly wondered how it could possibly grow indoors. It was one of the many questions swimming around in his mind, but one of the least important at the moment. There were open-air windows on each wall of the hut, and there was a small hole in the roof to allow natural sunlight to come in. It was by no means dilapidated, however; he felt almost comfortable in the unfamiliar little place.

He was pulled out of his observations by the woman’s voice. “I imagine you must have plenty of questions,” she said. “I’ll answer whatever I can.” She abandoned the vegetables that she had been cutting and made her way to his side, kneeling down beside the mattress.

There was one matter that Luke wanted to address before anything else. “Could you please give me back my sweater?” he asked, cheeks flushing pink. “I’d feel much more comfortable with it.”

The woman nodded, reaching for a small basket that sat at the foot of the mattress. “I put your sweater and hat in here,” she said. “I am sorry to have kept them from you, but we had to bandage your ribs as soon as possible.”

Pulling on his sweater gave him a moment to regroup and think about what he wanted to ask. There were so many things on his mind that Luke didn’t even know where to begin. “This is all a lot to take in, and I – I don’t even know what I want to ask you first!” The ache in his ribs began to reassert itself, and the woman’s green eyes darkened as she gestured for Luke to lie back down.

“Why don’t I start by telling you a few things,” she suggested, “and we’ll see if that gets your mind working. You’ve been out for a few days; it’s understandable you’re confused.” After the boy had laid down and given her a tentative nod, she relaxed enough to continue. “You’re in a village called Validilene.”

At this, Luke piped up with his first question. “How did I get here?”

It seemed an innocuous enough question, but the woman froze, staring at Luke with apprehension in her eyes. “Do you not remember?” she lowly asked, watching his face for any signs of recognition. Luke shook his head, already dreading the answer that he sensed was forthcoming. “The Molentary Express – it comes through here once in a while – it crashed outside of the village. The villagers have been combing the wreckage ever since.”

Luke hurriedly scrambled to sit up, regretting the movement instantly as the pain in his body became stronger. He couldn’t stifle his cry of pain, but he pressed on, needing to know what had happened. “It crashed?!” he demanded, staring wildly up at the woman as she fluttered her hands over him, willing him to lie back and rest. “I – ”

Suddenly his memory jolted, and something from a while back resurfaced.

* * *

_ "Luke.” Layton’s soft voice stirred the young boy from his slumber. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but they had left St. Mystere late enough in the afternoon that the sky was beginning to darken. After the night before, worrying sick over whether or not the Professor and the girl – Flora, he remembered – were alive in the crumbling tower, Luke wasn’t surprised that he was sleeping now. “We’re just about an hour outside of London now.” _

_Luke let out a slow breath and smiled wearily. “Thank goodness, Professor,” he murmured sleepily. “It’s been an awfully long few days.”_

_“That it has,” Layton agreed. He still had not raised his voice, so Luke correctly figured that Flora was still asleep in the backseat. “Luke, my boy, there is something we must discuss. You are aware of what has transpired in St. Mystere, yes?”_

_His brow creased in confusion. Did the professor think that he hadn’t been paying attention? “Of course!” he piped up, quickly lowering his voice as he heard Flora stir. Luke waited with bated breath until she settled back down before continuing. “We solved the mystery of the Golden Apple, and now we’re heading back to London!” Even in a whisper, his voice still held traces of excitement._

_Layton nodded slowly, flicking on the windshield wipers as rain began to come down. “Correct,” he affirmed, “but there is more to it than that.” He hesitated, as if unsure how best to continue. “Baron Reinhold was seeking someone to care for his daughter.”_

_“For Flora,” Luke interrupted._

_A small smile crossed the older man’s face as he carefully maneuvered the upcoming turn. “Well, Luke…as a young woman, she needs guardianship, and it appears that the role will fall to me.”_

_The smile slowly faded off of Luke’s face as he took this in. He hadn’t really thought about what would happen to Flora after returning to London, as guilty as the realization made him feel. He supposed that it was only logical that the professor would take over her care – after all, he had been the one to solve the puzzles of St. Mystere, and had solved the task that Baron Reinhold had set._

_“I will speak with her, of course,” Layton continued. “If she chooses, we will make room for her in the flat.”_

_At this, Luke did a double-take. “What? But Professor,” he protested. “There’s barely enough room for you and me! Where would Flora stay?”_

_A stern look crossed Layton’s brow as Flora made a soft noise in the backseat. “Luke,” he said, lowering his voice in an attempt to guide the conversation’s volume. “There is no need to discuss the particulars now. For the time being, perhaps Flora could stay in your room. Would you mind staying with your parents for a night or so?”_

_Layton’s gaze was firmly fixed on the road, so he did not see the heavy stare that Luke sent into the backseat at the sleeping young woman. Luke wanted to protest further, but he did recognize the situation called for him to be a gentleman. “Of course, Professor,” he finally said._

* * *

_But why am I remembering this now?_

“—are you alright?”

Luke started as the woman’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Huh? Oh…yeah, I think so,” he said. “Just…just remembering.”

She waited politely for a moment, as if expecting him to continue, but yielded when she realized that he did not wish to discuss the matter further. She decided that the best course of action was to change the subject by introducing herself.

“We haven’t met properly,” she said. “My name is Sibyl.” She offered her hand to him. “I’m the spiritual leader of our little village. And who might you be?”

Luke took her hand in return. “Luke Triton,” he replied. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Sibyl – I’m Professor Layton’s apprentice!”

Sibyl smiled at his enthusiasm. “Yes, I’ve heard word of the professor’s travels,” she murmured. Her smile dimmed after a moment, however. “But, Luke, where is the professor now? I’m told you two are rarely apart.”

Luke was silent as it suddenly clicked that he had been alone when he woke. Why had he been on the Molentary Express? And why was he alone? It was likely he had been going somewhere with the professor, but where was he now?

“…I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice becoming strained with fear. He closed his eyes, struggling to remember anything and only coming up with a glimmer of a memory. “We were on the train – the professor and I were leaving Dropstone; we had just picked up Flora and were on our way back to London…”

Worry clouded Sibyl’s features as she searched Luke’s face. “Then he was with you?” she confirmed carefully. At Luke’s nod, she took a deep breath. “Luke…you were alone when you were found. There was no sign of anyone else on the train.”

Luke was baffled, to say the least. “What? But how can that be?” he moaned, shoving his hands frantically though his hair. “I’m only thirteen; I certainly can’t drive the train! How could I have been alone?!”

The spiritual leader closed her eyes and shook her head in concern. “I’m afraid that I don’t have the answer, Luke. The rescuers were just as confused as you are now.”

Luke bunched up the blanket in his fists, trying to tell himself that the tears welling in his eyes were from the onions that Sibyl had been cutting when he had awoken. “But where could the professor be?” he whispered.

After a long silence in which the woman pretended not to see his distress, Luke spoke up once more. “Miss Sibyl…have the rescuers found anyone else since me?”

“Hmm…” She tilted her head thoughtfully in response. “I haven’t been out and about since yesterday evening,” she conceded. “Since you’re awake, I’ll go find some bread for you to eat. I’ll ask around while I’m out.”

Luke’s brow furrowed in impatience. “I was hoping to go with you,” he said. “I can be ready in a minute!” He tried to stand, but almost immediately doubled over with renewed pain. He cried out in agony, startled by how much worse it was than before.

Immediately, Sibyl was at his side and pulling back the blanket to examine the bandages. “Luke, are you alright?” she asked, urgency in her voice. After a long moment of misery, Luke was able to pry his eyes open enough to meet hers and nod. “Goodness sakes,” she murmured, giving him a stern look. “You must be more careful. I want you to rest here until I get back, do you understand?” Winded by the ordeal, the boy could only nod. Satisfied by his answer, Sibyl pulled the blankets back up around him. “Is there anything I can get for you?” she asked, rising and heading for the door.

Luke shook his head, too tired to even prop himself up to answer properly. “No…but if you – hear anything about the professor – ” He trailed off, finally meeting her eyes.

Sibyl nodded kindly. “Of course. I will ask around.” A small smile ghosted across her face. “Rest up, Luke,” she reminded as she exited the hut.

Luke sighed, wanting to roll over but deciding that would be unwise at the moment. _What good will it do to rest?_ He wondered irritably. _I’m not even sleepy…I’ve slept so much already…_

And yet, when Sibyl returned home twenty minutes later, she found the boy fast asleep.


	3. Terror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware of mild Professor Layton vs. Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney spoilers. I’ve kept things as vague as I can (not to mention changed most of the original details from one particular scene), but I recognize that some people wish to experience the ups and downs of the game on their own. If this applies to you, just skip the first italicized section, and continue reading where the font returns to normal. I hope this doesn’t cause too many problems for people!
> 
> Thanks,
> 
> Banj

_Running._

_Somehow, it seemed as if he was always running lately. Running down the hallway, mindless of the gaggle of people following closely behind, Luke managed to outpace them all. He paused at one point, unsure of where he was going – and now, it appeared as though the hallway was stretching out further and further. He was attempting to gather his thoughts when suddenly a piercing cry shattered the labored breathing of the runners. Luke’s body kicked back into gear, and he dashed forward before wrenching the door open._

_He really wished that he hadn’t._

_Professor Layton stood in the middle of the room, pointer finger extended at the blank wall in front of him. Luke was used to this pose; it wasn’t what startled him._

_What did that was the fact that the professor was solid gold._

_The air in the room thinned as each of its occupants gasped. Luke already felt as if he couldn’t breathe; his head began to swim as he struggled to stay on his feet. “Dearie, dearie me,” the teacher behind him whimpered. At that moment, the professor tipped forward due to the weight of his golden, outstretched arm, and clattered to the floor. Luke wanted to rush forward to catch him, but he was utterly frozen in place by the awful sight before him. As Layton crashed, his arm broke off, spinning wildly and landing somewhere across the room; Luke didn’t even see where. He was too horrified to take his eyes off of the professor’s golden complexion. “PROFESSOR!” he screamed, taking his first step into the room. It nearly drowned out the racket of something dropping to the ground behind the professor, but everyone’s eyes darted to the source of the noise._

_It was a witch’s scepter, in front of Flora’s feet._

_The almost_ indignant _way in which she squealed “It wasn’t_ me _!” made Luke’s blood boil. He surged forward – intending to demand the truth from her, to scream about what she had done, to_ beg _her to_ bring him back _– but strong arms encircled him from behind and held him in place, and a low, only vaguely-familiar voice spoke._

_“You had to have known this was coming. There’s nothing we can do now.”_

_“IT’S NOT TOO LATE!” Luke bellowed, struggling against the blue-suited man behind him. “There has to be a way to bring him back! The professor can’t – he just can’t be –!”_

_And then Flora was in front of him again. “Why didn’t you do anything, Luke?” she demanded, her voice thick and watery as her eyes filled with tears. “Why didn’t you stop the witch?” Before Luke could angrily point out that it was Flora herself who appeared to be the witch, she continued. “Why didn’t you do something?!” she screamed, planting her hands on Luke’s shoulders and shoving him back into the man behind him. “You were right there; why didn’t you_ save him _?!” The tears almost glittered in her wide, panic-stricken eyes as she stared wildly at Luke._

 _Luke cried out as he fell back against the man, his own tears threatening to fall. “I tried! You’re the one who – ” He tried to fight it off, knowing that saying it aloud would irrevocably damage their friendship, but he couldn’t bring himself to care because it had to have been her – “You’re the one who killed him, you evil_ witch _!”_

_The last thing he remembered was breaking free of the lawyer’s arms and running away._

_Running._

_Somehow, it seemed as if he was always running lately._

* * *

 

“—Luke! Luke, please wake up!”

He jolted awake with a cry to find Sibyl’s hand resting on his shoulder. Still in the throes of his nightmare, he frantically wrenched away from her. To his surprise, the action did not hurt his ribs nearly as much as he anticipated.

“What happened?” Sibyl murmured, resting her wrist against his forehead. “Heavens, you’re burning up!” She rose, stepping over to a bucket by the door. Luke could only lie back, grimacing, as she returned with a cloth that she draped across his forehead. It felt cool against his burning skin, and he allowed his eyes to slide closed as the temperature helped to soothe him. “Are you alright?” she asked, voice low and soft as if to avoid frightening him further. He couldn’t answer, still too shaken, and she sensed it. “Here,” she said, saving him from communication by handing him a piece of bread. “Eat this. I’ll get you some water.” Sibyl stood and went back to the bucket. She carefully dipped a cup in it, filling it before bringing it back over to Luke. “Drink,” she advised, pressing the cup into his shaking hands.

Luke ignored the bread, took the cup, and drank greedily as if to drown the nightmare. He drained the cup and set it down, slowly taking deep breaths to ground himself. _Why am I having these nightmares?_

“Settle now,” Sibyl cautioned. “I’ll get you more water, but don’t drink so quickly this time; you’ll get ill.”

He nodded feebly in return, settling back against the mattress. As she knelt to fill the cup, Luke tried speaking once more. “’m fine, you know,” he said stubbornly. “Was just a nightmare.”

“You were thrashing and screaming,” the long-haired woman observed. “Must have been a really bad nightmare.” She knelt beside him once more, and was pleased to see that Luke had stopped shaking enough to take the cup from her. He sat up under his own strength and slowly sipped the water, mindful of Sibyl’s almost maternal gaze fixed on him. Once he had finished, she took the cup and Luke began to nibble at the bread. As she set the cup aside, Sibyl watched Luke’s face carefully. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Luke swallowed his mouthful of bread and hesitated before answering. “Not really,” he finally mumbled. “Just a stupid nightmare about Flora and the p-professor…” The boy was mortified that his voice cracked, and he found himself scrubbing at his eyes in a futile attempt to hide his tears.

A gentle hand rested on his shoulders. “Luke,” Sibyl said, voice low and filled with concern. “You’ve been through a great trauma. You don’t have to hide things, or put on a strong face…it’s alright to feel things, you know.”

Silence settled between them, only broken when Luke sniffled loudly a moment later. He nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced of what she was saying. “Thank you,” he finally mumbled, not wanting to be rude after she had cared for him and finding that the neutral road was the best way to avoid doing so.

For a moment, Sibyl briefly hoped that Luke wouldn’t inquire about how her trip in the village had gone, but she should have known better. “Did you hear anything about the professor?” Luke finally asked, raising his eyes to meet hers for the first time since waking. Her full-body wince gave him the answer that he needed. “I was afraid of that,” he murmured, trailing his eyes away from hers once more.

“I’m so sorry, Luke,” Sibyl apologized. “There have been no others besides you.”

There was no answer from the boy; he continued to stare at the piece of half-eaten bread in his fingers. It was still warm – it had clearly been baked not long ago. More memories pushed and clawed at the recesses of his mind, but none would hold still long enough to be properly identified.

Everything was a mess.

A train wreck.

_Wait._

Then an idea came to Luke. “It’s – the Molentary Express was a long train, right?” Hesitantly he raised his head enough to look at Sibyl. “Is it possible that not all of the wreckage has been found yet?”

“Mmm.” Her tan ponytail slipped off of her shoulder as she turned towards the door of the hut. “Well,” Sibyl finally replied, “anything is possible, I suppose. I admit, after finding that someone was alive – you – our priority was caring for you and stabilizing you. Very few people have dared go near the train since then, except to search the immediate area for more survivors.”

Now, _that_ was interesting. “Why’s that?” Luke asked, leaning forward.

Sibyl’s lips pressed together to the point of almost disappearing, and for the first time since meeting her, Luke felt that she looked truly rattled. “The souls,” she whispered. “They’re restless.”


	4. Reprieve and Insight

His mouth dropped slightly as he took in that word.

 _Souls_.

Luke had seen many a strange thing in his travels with Professor Layton, but he could safely say that he had never dealt with anything of that caliber before.  _But Sibyl did mention that she's the spiritual leader of the village…I wonder if that's why she looks so spooked._

"Miss Sibyl?" Luke was hesitant to ask, but if he was going to be incapacitated for a while, he needed to learn as much as he could. "Could you tell me what it is you do?"

Now she was turning back to face him with a fond smile. "None of that 'Miss', if you please. No need to be so formal. And you're free to ask me anything you like, Luke – just understand I may not always have the answers you're looking for."

He nodded solemnly, having already accepted this. "I understand," he acknowledged. "You mentioned that you're a spiritual leader; what does that mean?"

Sibyl settled back, taking a deep breath as she decided how best to answer the question. "Well, my main duty is to help the people of our village handle any spiritual concerns and questions that they have. However, when the occasion calls for it…" Now she hesitated before continuing to speak. "I bless souls that are in need of it. This is what I was doing when we came across you, Luke."

His dark eyes narrowed in confusion as he raked his hand through his hair. "Blessing the souls?" he finally asked. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I help to guide them to our Beyond," Sibyl replied. "Sometimes, a soul lost in a tragic or violent way will find itself lost on the earth, and someone must guide it so it does not remain lost forever."

Luke let out an involuntary shudder. He wasn't sure where he stood on the idea of souls being real, but he couldn't stomach the thought of being trapped somewhere for the rest of your life – or really, the rest of your existence. It sounded like a terrifying thought, and one that he would never want to go through. Being in limbo…not alive, but not truly dead…

"It's a peaceful event," Sibyl assured him with a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Once the soul has come to terms with its passing, it can finally move on."

"…I see," Luke said after a long moment. This was all very new to him, and it made him feel very uneasy.

"You aren't sure you believe it," the woman realized. "I understand for someone who has not been raised by these ways, it can be hard to accept."

Luke stared out of the window, focusing on the gentle rolling of the grass on the hills. "It's not just that," he said slowly. "It's just…"

There was something bothering him about what Sibyl had said, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He continued to stare at the hills, until his gaze fixed on the train tracks.

In that moment, the contradiction clicked.

"I thought you said there were no signs of any others on the train," Luke said, gawking at Sibyl in confusion. "What were you doing there?"

Something in Sibyl's face changed for a moment – the briefest of flickers – and then it was gone. "I was there in the event that there were any souls to be blessed," she said, seeming genuinely confused as to why Luke would ask such a thing. "That is my job, Luke."

His mouth dropped open for a moment as he considered this – something didn't seem right about the whole affair – but decided against saying anything. Perhaps his mind was still fuzzy; perhaps he was still ill.

Or perhaps he had just misunderstood.

"That makes sense," he said carefully. A sudden wave of sleepiness hit him, and Luke lay back against the mattress.

Sibyl's face darkened in concern. "Luke, are you unwell?"

 _She reminds me of Mum,_  he blearily thought. "Just really tired," he said instead. "I'd like to sleep a bit, if you don't mind."

"Of course." Sibyl stood then, excusing herself as Luke wrapped the blanket around himself. "Rest up, Luke. I'll have some soup made for the next time you're awake."

Luke let out an affirmative noise before raising his head briefly. "Sibyl?"

She turned back. "Yes, Luke?"

A silence fell between them as Luke considered the best way to say what needed to be said. Finally, he decided to just say what was on his mind. "I appreciate everything you're doing for me. Really, I do." The woman smiled, and Luke was tempted to leave it there. His need for the truth forced him to press on. "But why are you doing all this? We don't even know each other."

There was a pause as Sibyl considered this. After a moment, she smiled. "I would help anyone in need, Luke, but something…" She let out a quiet hum as she pondered the rest of her thought. "Something tells me that you need my help."

Luke turned this over in his mind as he nodded, offering Sibyl a grateful smile. "Thank you again," he said again. "If there's any way I can help, please let me know."

Her soft chuckle filled the room. "Perhaps once you're well again," she said. "Sleep now."

It didn't take long; Luke fell into a dreamless sleep within the following few minutes.

* * *

He wasn't sure how long he had slept, but the smell of hot soup woke him what felt to be days later. Luke let out a sleepy grunt as he pushed himself up, finding that his ribs weren't hurting nearly as badly as they had been just a few hours prior.

That was strange. They way he'd been writhing in agony, Luke had assumed that they had been broken. Now, however, it felt as if he was dealing with nothing more than a slightly painful side stitch from running too hard.

Before he could ponder on this, Sibyl's voice brought his attention to her. "Soup's up," she called cheerfully from somewhere outdoors. He was curious as to why she was outside, but Luke reasoned that having a fire inside her small, grass-based home was probably not the smartest of ideas.

A few moments later, Sibyl reappeared with a large bowl of soup, setting it beside him. "It's vegetable," she offered before disappearing to fetch her own bowl.

Luke sat up, picking up the bowl and inhaling. It smelled wonderful, and it took all of his willpower to wait for Sibyl to return. When she finally returned, he waited for her to take her first bite before he felt comfortable digging in.

"It's really good," he managed between bites. She only chuckled in reply and quietly drank the broth.

An amicable silence stretched out between them as they ate. The breeze rustled through the open windows, ruffling the grass floor of the hut. A brilliant golden glow laid over the room, warming them both in the beginning of the evening chill.

Luke swallowed the last of his soup before exhaling softly. "Thank you, Sibyl. That was delicious."

The woman tilted her head in response. "I am glad that you enjoyed it," she said, smiling softly.

The boy set the bowl aside, taking a long, slow breath as he prepared himself to speak. "I need to ask you something," he said, staring the woman in the eyes.

Sibyl slowly set her bowl aside, closing her eyes for a moment. "Yes, Luke?"

"I want to examine the train wreck with you tomorrow morning."

Blue eyes slid open as she searched his face, seeing only determination. "I'm not surprised," she admitted. "I've been wondering when you would ask." She hesitated before continuing. "I personally am not sure that it is a good idea…but I can see that you are unwavering." A small smile played across her lips. "It seems that I will not be able to sway you."

Luke shook his head firmly. "No, Sibyl. You won't be able to stop me."

The woman sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. "Very well. Assuming that your ribs are not hurting you in the morning, I can accept this."

He let out a little sigh of relief. He hadn't really figured that Sibyl would forbid him from going, but he had been a concerned that he would have to be firm in his wishes. It was thus that he agreed to sleep more after dinner was finished, enjoying a calm and dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Luke was pleased to find that his ribs hurt even less than they had been. He decided to ignore the twinge that plagued him like a side stitch would, fearing that Sibyl would ban him from leaving the hut.

As they walked through the village, Luke let out a nervous swallow upon realizing how quiet and empty it was. There were plenty of huts littering the landscape, but it appeared as if nobody was there.

"Where is everyone?" he murmured, glancing around uncertainly.

Sibyl's lips were pressed tightly together, and Luke could tell that she was fearful as well. "We all fear the energies coming from the wreckage," she explained. "Everyone stays inside for fear of falling to a spirit's rage and anger."

There was a definite sense of disquiet coming from the empty village, and Luke began to wonder if there was any truth to Sibyl's explanation of angry spirits. The thought had no time to fester, however, as he came over the hill and the wind was knocked out of him by the site of the Molentary Express, lying on its side away from the tracks. It was crushed as a small child might crush a piece of paper.

The wreckage seemed to stretch for miles. Debris littered the ground and Luke recoiled in horror as his breathing quickened. This was all that was left of the famed Molentary Express, and seeing it in such a state made Luke realize that he was incredibly lucky to be alive.

A frown crossed Sibyl's face as she watched Luke's obvious distress. "Luke," she wheedled softly. "You don't have to do this, you know."

The boy took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and shook his head. "No," he said. "I have to do this. I have to remember what happened."

As he stepped closer, a feeling of dread began to overtake his young mind. Luke gritted his teeth against the sudden sensation, reaching up to press his hat against his head. He was shocked into stillness when his vision blackened and a ghostly apparition of Inspector Chelmey appeared before his eyes.

"… _an apprentice?"_  he growled, staring Luke right in the eyes.  _"What in the world is this child talking about?! …well, it's really none of my concern."_

"I-Inspector Chelmey?" Luke stammered, eyes wide and heart racing. But as quickly as the Inspector had appeared, he had vanished and the Masked Gentleman was in his place.

" _It looks as if he's in quite a predicament,"_  he murmured in that sickeningly saccharine tone.  _"I hear you have a history of letting your friends down…"_

The boy's knees began to tremble. "N-no," he whispered, watching in fright as the Masked Gentleman disappeared.

A tall form appeared in front of him, blue suit nearly blinding him as the figure shook its head.  _"He's so full of anger and despair that he can't think clearly,"_  Phoenix Wright murmured.

"Mr. Wright," Luke whimpered, "Stop this,  _please_!" He clutched at the sides of his head, sinking to his knees. "Why am I hearing all of you?"

Phoenix disappeared, and in his place appeared Professor Layton. Luke wanted to push himself up and run to the Professor, but Luke feared that he was just another illusion. He braced himself, waiting for the Professor's words, but none came.

Somehow, the deafening silence was worse than any of the condescending and pitying words that he had previously heard.

"Professor," Luke managed, eyes beginning to sting with tears. "Please…say something… _anything_ …"

But the professor just stared at him, unblinking. It reminded Luke of all the times that he had reached out to Layton and gotten nothing but silence in return.

He couldn't take it anymore. Luke closed his eyes and screamed, all of his fear and agony being released in that primal, terrified shriek. Somewhere in the distance, he heard Sibyl's voice calling out to him as he fell into unconsciousness.


	5. Resolve

When he came to, a figure was crouching protectively over him. Her long hair obscured her face as she glared around, and Luke couldn't see her face clearly. The familiar color glimmered briefly in Luke's foggy mind, and he squinted to bring the picture back into focus. "…Mum?" he whispered, struggling to push himself into a sitting position.

The figure turned back to face him, hard blue eyes softening slightly as she saw he was conscious. Luke's face fell in disappointment as he realized that his protector was not his mother, but he wiped any trace of it from his face for fear of offending her. He let out a slow, shaky sigh. "Sibyl," he managed, finally pushing himself into an upright position. "What happened?"

Her eyes hardened once more. "I sensed many malevolent spirits. By the time I was able to reach you, you were screaming in terror. I managed to ward them off, but you fell unconscious."

Luke buried his face in his hands. The voices were returning, and all he could remember was their mocking and disappointed words, and he shuddered. Why had he heard all of them at the site of the train's wreckage?

Sibyl placed a hand on his back and he flinched, coming back to the present. "Luke," she whispered. "Tell me what happened."

He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to share the memories with Sibyl. If she was really the spiritual leader of the village, why had he been so quickly overtaken by spirits? Wasn't her job to bless the lost souls so that they wouldn't wander lost forever? Why had they been so  _cruel_  when they spoke to him?

No. Wait. It wasn't possible. Spirits didn't really exist, did they? And if they did, why were the spirits of Inspector Chelmey, the Masked Gentleman, and Mr. Wright there? None of them had been on the train.

The professor…Luke didn't want to consider that one. It was too painful to think about the potential implications.

Luke groaned painfully, shaking his head. No, he needed to keep this to himself until he could place other pieces of the puzzle.

Sibyl's brow furrowed in concern. "Do you not trust me, Luke?" she murmured, trying to keep her voice neutral and soft.

He closed his eyes, refusing to meet her gaze. "It's not that," he protested, though the words had little weight to them. "I just don't understand…"

There was a long silence in which Sibyl considered his words. After the trauma that he had just been through, it was possible that Luke was not yet ready to speak about the things that he had seen. "It is alright," she finally said. "I do understand. You have been through much, and you are not ready to speak yet."

Somehow her insistence that everything was okay made Luke feel as if it most certainly was  _not_  okay. She was being almost  _too_  kind and understanding and maintaining that he shouldn't overexert himself, and Luke could not wrap his head around why she was being this way. He was hardly a child, but he felt as if she were treating him like one.

"I'm not comfortable sharing just yet, Sibyl," he said, trying not to sound too exasperated. "I – maybe you were right; maybe I wasn't ready for this." He scrubbed furiously at his eyes, trying to remain grounded in the moment without breaking down.

Sibyl frowned slightly as she removed her hand from his back. "I understand," she repeated, and Luke began to wonder if she truly did.

* * *

The sky was nearly dark by the time they made their way back to Sibyl's hut. Stars began to light their way as the moon continued its overhead journey. Luke and Sibyl hardly spoke as they re-entered the quiet hut.

"I think I'm going to turn in," Luke finally spoke. "And…Sibyl?"

She raised her eyes to meet his for the first time since they had left the wreckage. "Hmm?"

He hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to take a breath, steel himself, and speak. "You've been nothing but kind to me, and I appreciate it." Luke sighed and cleared his throat. "But…I'm not a child. I want to go back to the wreck tomorrow and see if I remember anything."

A long silence stretched out between them, far less comfortable than when they had shared dinner the previous evening. Sibyl lowered her gaze and took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking. "Perhaps I have been…unfair in not allowing you to make your own decisions. As such, I will allow you to choose what you want to do about visiting the wreckage." Now she looked up and a tired smile crossed her lips. "I will assist you in any way possible, Luke, but the decisions now lie in your hands."

He smiled, quietly thanking her as she excused herself to start a fire outside the hut. Luke crawled under the blanket and lay back against the mattress, wondering if he would regret deciding to return.

* * *

_He's back in Labyrinthia, but things are different this time. He's in the courtroom of the witch trials looking down on the action from the inside of the cage that they put witches in._

" _B-but I can't be a witch!" he cries out, grabbing frantically at the bars of the cage. "I'm a_ boy! _" It's ridiculous and childish, but the absurdity of the situation leads to it being the only thing he can logically respond with._

_Maya Fey is watching him from the ground, her eyes hard and cold and so unlike he remembers. "You were the only one in the room when the Professor was killed," she tells him, "and the scepter was in your hands. You are the only one who could have done it."_

" _Maya,_ please _!" he begs. "That's impossible! I could never – "_

" _Silence!" the voice of the judge booms. "The accused has been found_ guilty _of the crime of witchcraft!"_

_In that moment, Luke can see everyone from Labyrinthia staring at him, hatred in their eyes. At the front of the crowd he sees Mr. Wright, holding the Professor's top hat with a mournful look in his eyes. Luke's knees threaten to buckle, and only the small space of the cage forces him to remain standing._

_Flora suddenly appears at Maya's side and it briefly occurs to Luke that he has never seen them together. Yet they embrace as if they are old friends, Maya murmuring something to Flora. The young brunette nods and wipes at her eyes before turning to face Luke._

" _I don't understand," Flora says, her voice watery as she stares at him. "How could you let him die like that?!" Tears swim in her eyes as Luke remains dumbfounded. "How? He's your – "_

_Luke never finds out what she intends to say, because the cage abruptly closes and drops into the flames below._

* * *

The moon was high in the sky as Luke started awake with a scream. His hands tore at his sweater; he felt as if he was burning up from the inside out. He couldn't tell if it was a remnant of the dream or something else, but he swore he could still feel the flames licking at him.

He began to breathe slowly, attempting to calm his racing heart.  _Another nightmare_. Luke sighed and raked a hand through his hair. Each nightmare made less sense than the last, and Luke had no idea how much worse they could get beyond this.

This had to stop, and it had to stop tonight.

It appeared to Luke that Sibyl was nowhere to be found. She had not appeared at his scream, a fact for which he was grateful. He wasn't keen on having to reassert his case while pale and trembling from a hellacious nightmare.

Luke shakily got to his feet, exiting the hut and staring out over the grassy hills. The grass rustled slightly in the chilly evening breeze and Luke shivered. He glanced around, confirming that he was alone. The smoldering remains of Sibyl's earlier fire were the only signs of humanity, but the other huts littering the landscape remained as eerily empty and silent as ever.

Before he realized what was happening, he was walking towards the site of the wreckage almost as if he was being pulled.

There had to be pieces to the truth in there – pieces that he needed to find on his own, without Sibyl's help.


	6. Clarity

If the wreckage hadn't already appeared eerie enough during the day, it was even worse at night. It loomed out of the darkness, only the faint glow of the moon reflecting off of its cold, metallic exterior. Luke shivered but forced himself to press onward.

The truth was somewhere within the wreckage. He just had to find it.

Luke approached the car that was the most intact – it was in fact the only one still on the rails – and placed a hand on it. Taking a deep breath to ground him, Luke gripped the handrail and lifted himself up into the car.

While all of the cars of the Molentary Express were more or less the same, Luke felt goosebumps cover his body as he realized that this was the car that he, the professor, and Flora had been staying in. It was almost as if someone had left it this way, intending him to find it and delve deeper into what had really happened that day.

He approached their room, but his attention was caught by the sight of the wall, cracked as if something had struck it at high velocity. He supposed that wasn't too unusual, given the nature of the force which had left the train in this state, but what intrigued him more was the crack running up the wall stemming directly from the point of impact. Luke filed it away for later and decided it was time to re-enter the room where he, Layton, and Flora had stayed during that eventful trip.

Luke caught his breath at the sight of their things strewn everywhere across the floor. Layton's trunk was open and hanging off of the sofa in the room, all of the items in it scattered. Luke's trunk was on the other side of the room, everything that he had so diligently packed in ruins. The gorgeous tea set was shattered on the floor, sugar dumped in a messy pile. Slightly hysterical, Luke wondered if the poor ants had made it out.

Luke's breath caught as he took it all in. Memories began to nudge at the back of his mind, but he struggled to grasp any of them. Nothing seemed right, and every memory that surfaced contradicted another. The boy fell to his knees, clutching at his head and groaning in pain.

"I suppose I couldn't keep it from you forever."

Luke leaped up at the sound of Sibyl's voice from somewhere behind him. He whirled around, terrified at having been caught out and about. He attempted to rationalize that he was  _not a child_ and –

Sadness crossed her face as she continued to watch him. "Luke. You will never know peace until you can remember what has happened."

The impact of her words hit him and left him breathless. "You know what happened?" he whispered, clenching his fists. Her affirmative nod only threw him further into his anger. "You  _knew_ , and you  _didn't tell me?!_ "

Her eyes closed and she nodded once more. "You will understand," she began, but he furiously cut her off.

" _Understand?_ " he repeated, stepping closer to her. "I  _understand_  that you've been keeping me here, refusing to tell me anything, and making me feel like a  _child_! I can't remember a thing that's happened to me, and you  _knew the whole time?!_ " Each infuriated sentence drew him closer to her until he was practically shouting in her face.

Something flickered in her face and for the briefest of moments Luke thought he saw his mother's eyes. It hit him like a punch to the gut, and he suddenly realized that he had lost total control and screamed at someone who had been trying to help him - someone who reminded him of Mum.

To Sibyl's credit, she unflinchingly took the brunt of his vitriol and waited for him to ride out his rant before she spoke. "Yes, I knew. I know that you came here seeking answers, but you will need my help to unlock them." She tucked her hand inside her robes before pulling out a small jewel that was a brilliant, dazzling blue topaz. Sibyl handed him the stone, pressing his fingers closed around it. "Hold it close and hone your memory, Luke. The truth is in your own mind, but it will only have meaning if you remember."

He wasn't sure entirely what her words meant, but the feel of the smooth stone in his hand grounded him, which led him to follow her direction. Luke's eyes closed, his hand tightened around the stone, and everything around him faded away.

* * *

_When he opened his eyes, he was standing on the observation deck of the Molentary Express, the wind whipping around him. The smell of the country air refreshed him and Luke smiled as he looked over the landscape. It really had been a long journey, but it was over now and they could all return to London. It would be back to business as usual._

_He looked up at the professor, smiling at the older man standing beside him. They had come through yet another epic journey, leaving things better than when they had arrived. Layton appeared to have a flair for helping others around him and solving problems, and Luke aspired to be the same someday. It was the duty of a gentleman, after all._

_Layton gave a soft hum as he continued to watch the countryside roll by. "I am truly glad that we were able to help," he mused. "Anton and Katia have quite a bit of catching up to do."_

" _That they do, Professor," Luke agreed. "I can't believe Don Paolo managed to follow us! I wonder what he would have done with the Elysian Box?"_

_Layton shook his head, adjusting his hat briefly. "Thankfully, Luke, we shall never have to find out. It has been returned to its rightful owner, and its story has come to a close."_

_Luke nodded and they sat in amicable silence for some time. The boy let out a slow breath as he remembered what Don Paolo had said about Flora – that she had been having a "grand old time" with the cows in Dropstone. "I'm glad that Flora's alright," he finally said. "I can't believe we didn't notice that she was really Don Paolo in disguise!"_

_Layton's gaze darkened as he remembered the twisting feeling of seeing his ward remove the rubber mask only to reveal his self-proclaimed arch-nemesis, Don Paolo, underneath. He and Luke had truly been fooled._

" _I will have to ensure that a better eye is kept on her," Layton finally replied. "For her to have been so easily snatched out from under our noses, and imitated so flawlessly…this is unacceptable."_

_Luke felt a bristle of annoyance. There had been times where he had been in peril as well – he flashed back to the time that the Masked Gentleman had abducted him and flown around the room with him for a while – but Layton had never said something along these lines then._

" _I agree," Luke said carefully. "But…professor, both Flora and I have been in danger before," he pointed out. "And I've been fine and just brushed it off…"_

_He wondered if it was the wrong thing to say when Layton shook his head in reply. "The situations are quite different," he said. "Flora is a young lady, and protecting a young lady is – "_

" _The duty of every gentleman," Luke finished dully. Layton turned to him, a touch surprised by the interruption and the dismal tone to Luke's voice. What had caused such a mood in the boy? A long silence stretched out almost unpleasantly between them until Luke finally broke it. "Professor, what is Flora to you?"_

_Layton was able to answer that question promptly. "Flora is my ward," he said. "She is under my care at the request of the late Baron Reinhold."_

_Luke nodded as if he had expected this answer. "And what am I, professor? What am I to you?"_

_Layton hesitated. He had to approach this with great care so as not to make the situation worse than it already was. Unfortunately, his pause was just long enough that Luke began to get the wrong idea._

" _You care more about Flora than me," Luke finally managed. The utter hurt that laced his voice shocked Layton into silence once more. "Don't you, Professor?"_

_It was clear to Layton that these were thoughts that he was never meant to hear. It was likely that the utter exhaustion of the past few days was beginning to get to Luke and causing him to reveal thoughts that had been meant to be kept secret. His mouth opened and closed in a most ungentlemanly manner as Luke continued to stare at him through wet eyes._ How in the world do I even begin to handle such a thought as this?

_Luke perceived Layton's silence as an admission of truth. He turned and fled the observation deck. From behind him, he faintly heard Layton call his name, but Luke ignored him. He didn't want to hear any more – he had heard quite enough._

_Silence, it appeared, spoke volumes._

_When he reached their room, Luke stopped at the feel of a gentle hand grasping his arm and guiding him to a halt. "Luke," the professor softly chided. "A gentleman does not run from the problems he faces." The reminder was quiet, though, and void of any true reprimand._

_Luke, feeling ashamed, slowly turned to face Layton. His voice died in his throat – he wanted to apologize, but the words simply would not come out. His face turned red as he lowered his gaze to the floor._

" _Oh, my boy," Layton sighed quietly. "I am sorry that this conversation has to happen in this way…" He continued to watch the boy, though his gaze was steadfastly ignored. "Luke…" The older man hesitated as he tried desperately to find the words that so urgently needed to be said. "The truth is that I – "_

_But before the words could be said, the train let out a horrible noise. A sudden, violent jackknife sent both professor and apprentice flying. Layton let out a grunt as he hit the floor and Luke flew back against the wall. The boy let out a pained noise as his head collided with the wall and he crumpled to the floor. The integrity of the wall was already compromised due to the accident, and Luke's collision with it only made things worse. Layton watched in horror as a crack glided from wall to ceiling, loosening a piece of the heavy decorated tile._

_As the piece loosened and fell, Layton felt adrenaline course through his veins. He forced himself to his feet and across the debris-littered hallway, dashing to Luke's side. The professor managed to throw himself over Luke's body before the weighty piece of tile came crashing down on them both. He bit back a shout of pain as the burden of the ceiling threatened to force his arms to give out. No matter what, he mustn't give up, for Luke's sake - !_

" _Luke," he managed. "Are you – alright?"_

_Luke stared up at Layton, eyes wide and tear-filled for quite a different reason now. "Professor," he sobbed out. "Why did you - ?"_

_Layton grunted as the weight shifted and his arms began to tremble. "Luke," he cut in firmly. "A gentleman must keep his head at all times. See if you can't get out from under me." His voice was stable despite the pain, and as comforting as during any other time of peril. The familiarity brought a semblance of normalcy to the situation and Luke nodded._

_Luke struggled to move, finding that his collision with the wall had severely damaged his ribs to the point that he was unable to do so. "I c-can't," he whimpered, tears spilling over at the renewed pain that attempting to move caused. "I'm s-sorry, Professor – "_

" _It – it is alright." Layton's voice was becoming strained with the effort of holding up the ceiling, but he knew that he must continue to persevere, especially with Luke injured. "Help will be here soon, Luke. Hang on just a bit longer, my boy."_

_Luke continued to fade in and out of awareness due to the pain, but more memories of Layton began to return as time passed. He realized how foolish he had been in his statements – Layton continued to hold the weight of the ceiling even as Luke faded in and out of consciousness. The professor did not waver even when there was a shout from somewhere outside the darkness of the wreckage: "There's two over here!" Only when the rescuers had removed the ceiling from Layton's back and extracted Luke from underneath the protection of Layton's body did the older man finally allow himself so much as a grimace of pain._

_The last thing that Luke remembered was desperately reaching for Layton's hand as they were loaded into separate ambulances._


	7. Truth

Luke dropped the blue topaz as if he had been burned by it. He took a frightened step back from it, staring in fear at the tiny stone lying on the floor. The moonlight glinting off of the stone seemed to mock him somehow.

" _What in the world was that?_ " he gasped out, blinking back tears. "What were you trying to show me?!"

Sibyl continued to watch the stone as well, her gaze unwavering. "I tried," she murmured. "Forgive me. I tried to protect you from it, Luke. That was my job."

Luke clutched at his temples, watching the moon dance across every facet of the stone. Was this memory true? Or was it illusionary like all of the others? They were far too detailed  _and_ real to be like the nightmares he had been having. Those felt real, but so many pieces and details were missing form them. This one was most similar to his first nightmare, when the professor had cradled Flora close as Luke faded into nothingness not thirty feet away…

Unbidden, the memories played once more in Luke's mind. The littlest details continued to jump out at him, screaming to be noticed: the clatter of the train's wheels, the rolling countryside outside of Folsense, the plush carpet shuffling under his feet as he ran from the professor, the heat of the tears in his eyes –

Wait. Outside of Folsense?

The back of Luke's neck prickled as he suddenly remembered the most important piece.

_Flora hadn't been with them._  They had been on their way back to Dropstone to pick her up.

He had broken down in front of Professor Layton and completely humiliated himself by revealing things that were meant to be kept secret. Even worse, the professor had been hurt trying to protect him after Luke had childishly run away.

Luke began to wonder if there had been some benefit to Sibyl hiding the truth from him.

The aforementioned woman stepped closer, placing a hand on his cheek. "You must continue on this path," she murmured. Her voice had changed; there was something oddly familiar laced in with the gentle accent that he had gotten used to over the past few days. It pushed at the back of his mind, but he couldn't pin it down with everything else in his mind. "I cannot shield you from it any longer."

"Shield me?" he repeated slowly, looking into her eyes once more. Staring back at him were the dark eyes of his mother, and Luke recoiled slightly. A moment later, they lapsed back into the same blue as Sibyl's topaz. "Why are you trying to hide the truth, Sibyl?" He placed his hands on top of hers, removing it from his cheek. The maternal gesture of touching his cheek brought him an odd mixture of comfort and trepidation and he needed to get away from it before it overwhelmed him and confused him further.

"You couldn't handle it," she whispered, stepping back to the entrance of the car. "I knew it would break you if you knew what had happened."

The boy's eyes narrowed as he straightened himself up and stared back at her. "You're wrong," he declared. "I know you had good intentions, Sibyl, but you're wrong. I can't handle  _not_  knowing the truth. That was something – something that I learned from Mr. Wright and Maya."

A small smile flickered across Sibyl's face and her hair darkened into the shade that Maya's held in Luke's memories. As quickly as he noticed it, it was gone, and Luke wondered again if he was seeing things. "Then you cannot stop," Sibyl murmured. "You are so very close to the truth, Luke."

They stood in silence for a long moment, separated by the invisible line the blue topaz drew between them. Luke wrapped his arms around himself as he turned everything he had learned over and over in his head. Tears filled his eyes as he came to the conclusion that Sibyl had tried to hide from him.

"I know the truth," he said quietly. "I caused the professor to be hurt." He brought one sleeve up to wipe at his eyes, attempting to suppress the shaking of his shoulders. "I can't face him again, if he's even still alive…"

Now Sibyl stepped closer, lightly grasping his shoulders and shaking. "Stop. You can't think like that. You mustn't give up, Luke – giving up means demise." Her voice became more urgent and she grasped his shoulders tighter. He opened his mouth to push her for elaboration, but she continued. "He wants to see you again, and we know it."

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. "We?" he repeated. "What - ?"

Once more, something in Sibyl's face changed and he saw the dark eyes of someone he once knew but struggled to remember. "Yes, 'we'." As she spoke, Luke heard a different voice speaking in tandem with Sibyl's. "I know you better than you think, Luke."

His eyes widened as he identified the voice layering Sibyl's. "Your – your voice sounds like mine - !"

Dark blue eyes, different from any he had seen on her before, fixed on his face as she spoke. "Then you should have figured out the last piece."

Luke furrowed his brow in thought. The professor always ensured that his facts were straight before he spoke, but this – this was ludicrous. The constantly-empty village…the strange changes in Sibyl's behavior and appearance…why she possessed the need to 'protect' him from the truth…why he had woken up alone…

It pointed to one final, bizarre truth.

"You're my subconscious. None of this place has ever been real."

A melancholy smile crossed her face. "Spot on, my boy."

Typically, when Professor Layton revealed a villain's scheme, Luke liked to orchestrate the scene in his mind with some sort of grandiose music, perhaps a bit of choreography. But now…now, he felt nothing. His realization felt… _empty_. He felt afraid of the implications behind this truth.

"It explains a lot," he felt the need to elaborate. "I – I want to be sure I have it all." When she nodded assent, he continued. "So…there was a real train wreck. That was what I just remembered. And I've…" This one was tricky to continue with, but he had a feeling that he knew the truth deep inside. "I've been in a coma," he murmured.

She nodded silently. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but Luke had to get it out before he lost the nerve to follow up on the truth. "The village is empty because it's just a piece of a memory in my mind, and you – " Luke swallowed, feeling almost guilty for what he was about to say next. "You exist only as part of my mind…don't you?"

Sibyl placed a hand on her chin and nodded. "You're missing one thing," she whispered. "Your ribs."

"That one's been stumping me," Luke admitted. "But I think I figured it out. Time isn't the same here in Validilene, is it? I don't know how long I've been in a coma, but I imagine it's been some time."

Again Sibyl nodded, casting her eyes down. "A day here stretches far further than in the living world," she acknowledged.

Luke smiled almost sadly. "And the reason I couldn't trust you…is because I couldn't trust myself, or my own memories."

She chuckled, at last giving him a real smile. "Spoken like a true apprentice of the great Professor Layton."

In that moment, Luke felt something within him awaken, as if he could finally begin to trust his own mind once more. At that instant he saw the sky beginning to lighten with the morning sun's early rays.

"I'm proud of you," she said. "I…tried to protect you from the truth. That's what your subconscious does after a trauma, you know." Sibyl looked almost abashed. "I am sorry. I should have known better."

Luke stepped closer to her, closing the distance between them and placing his hands on her shoulders. "You were doing what you thought was best for me," he said. "I forgive you."

"Thank you," she hummed in acknowledgement, closing her eyes in thought as she guided him out of the train's car. They walked in amicable silence, crossing the grassy hills and striding towards the glow of the sunrise. It was a few minutes later that she finally spoke. "You've pieced it all together, Luke. It's time for you to go home now."

A glowing portal the color of blue topaz opened before them, beckoning Luke closer. A smile crossed his face – finally, he was able to go home and see everyone again. Mum, Dad, Flora, the professor –

Luke stopped in his tracks, looking up at her. "Sibyl," he said hesitantly. "…the professor never…said that what I said was wrong…" She gazed at him with sympathetic eyes as he continued. "What if he doesn't want to talk to me? What if…" And here he swallowed, unable to bear the thought that was forthcoming. "What if he doesn't want me to be his apprentice anymore?"

The portal suddenly crackled and shrank slightly, down to about ¾ of its original size. A sudden look of concern flashed across Sibyl's face as she guided him quickly towards it. "I don't intend to rush you, Luke, but you're running out of time. You need to go – now!" She planted her hands on his back, intending to push him into the portal. To her surprise, Luke whirled around, dug in his heels, and grabbed at her arms to prevent being shoved.

"Wait!" he cried. "What will happen to you – to me – to us?!" He stared at her frantically. "You'll vanish – you're only part of my mind!"

A peaceful smile crossed her lips. Luke blinked, and in that moment Sibyl divided into six different people. "Oh, Luke," she said softly. "You haven't figured out which part of your subconscious I am." She leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I am the embodiment of the women you love."

Tears filled Luke's eyes as he ran down the line of women that Sibyl had split into. "Emmy." The dark-haired woman smiled, the warmth he remembered from her brown eyes shining as she looked at him before vanishing. "Espella." The blonde girl smiled gently, her brilliant red cloak flashing as she too vanished into the morning air. "Maya." The purple beads in her hair bounced as she gave him a quick bow and a bright laugh prior to disappearing. "Mum." The familiar form of his mother reached out to touch his cheek and smile before dissipating into the air. "…Flora." The golden apple birthmark appeared at her collarbone as she smiled at Luke before she vanished. The tears flowed freely down Luke's cheeks as he turned to Sibyl, the last in line.

"As long as you continue to think of us and love us, Luke, I will never truly leave you." He could only nod in reply, reaching out to embrace her.

He had accepted her as part of himself, and for the first time since waking up in this strange village, Luke felt whole once more.

Sibyl gently removed his hands from her arms and gave him a gentle push, sending him into the portal and away from Validilene. The brilliant blue of the portal closed with the boy safely on the other side, and Sibyl knew her job was finished.

"Goodbye, Luke." The woman turned her face towards the sun, closed her eyes, and embraced eternity as she, too, dissolved in the brilliant morning sun.


	8. Conclusion

Luke's eyes snapped open as he gasped for breath. Immediately he could see the stark white ceiling above him and feel the slightly scratchy bedclothes beneath him – telltale signs that he was in hospital, just as he had assumed.

His gasp for air drew the attention of the figure in the room, who drew a breath of their own. "Luke?" The voice was filled with trepidation and fear, as if in skepticism at what they had just heard.

His eyes searched wildly until they fell on the familiar form of his mother, standing in the corner of the room. Luke's vision blurred with tears as Brenda Triton practically dashed to his bedside, gripping at his hand. "Mum," he managed to choke out in a raw voice.

Brenda's eyes closed tightly as she sank to the floor in utter disbelief that her son had returned to the world of the living long after doctors had given up hope. "Luke," she whispered, reaching out to embrace him tightly. Her fingers knotted in his hair, pulling him close for fear that he might disappear again the moment she let go.

In turn, Luke raked his fingers through his mother's hair, nestling close and being soothed by her heartbeat. Despite his age, he felt no shame in openly embracing his mother after all he had been through. "Mum," he repeated, the tears coming freely now as he remembered Sibyl's final words to him.

" _As long as you continue to think of us and love us, Luke, I will never truly leave you."_

"My baby," Brenda murmured, tears of her own joining her son's. "I thought we had lost you…"

Luke's grip on his mother tightened as he could only manage a nod in reply.

Footsteps entered the room and Luke was startled out of his trance by his father's voice. "Luke - ?! Luke, is it really - ?"

Brenda looked up at Clark, her eyes red-rimmed but glowing with a happiness that he hadn't seen in weeks. "He's back," she said, voice thick with tears still threatening to spill.

Luke had always seen his father as a calm and composed man, so it came as a complete shock when the man gave a sob and dropped to his knees beside Brenda to embrace both his wife and son. His hand came up to cradle Luke's head, as he had done when the boy was but a young babe, and he held Luke close as he openly cried in front of his son for the first time.

Luke disentangled his arms briefly from his mother's embrace in order to hug his father with all of the strength his body possessed. Brenda's arms came around them like an angel's protective wings, and it occurred to Luke that his father had never hugged him before.

After a long moment in which the family felt truly whole again, Clark slowly rose. "I must find Hershel," he murmured to Brenda. "He's barely left the hospital, but I think he's gone to find Flora."

_Find Flora?_  Luke felt a pang of worry at that. Where could she have gone?

Clark must have noticed the look on his son's face for he began to backtrack. "Nothing to worry about," he said. "I believe the girl went home quite upset without him and he wanted to ensure she was alright."

Luke managed a nod, trying to swallow the guilt. "Dad," he finally managed. "What happened to the professor - ?"

Before Clark could answer, doctors came rushing in, startled by the awakening of the boy. "Thought it was hopeless," one murmured as he examined Luke. Clark and Brenda stepped back to allow the doctors time to work, holding each other's hands tightly as they watched in silence.

* * *

It felt like hours before the doctors finally left the family in peace. Brenda seated herself at the foot of the bed, just watching her son. Clark had taken a seat in the corner, watching his family. Luke's eyes drooped as he realized that despite having been asleep for who knows how long, he was exhausted.

A quiet knock at the door startled them all out of their silence. The sheepish-looking face of Phoenix Wright suddenly poked in. "Uh s-sorry if we're interrupting, but I – " His eyes suddenly caught Luke's and his mouth dropped in surprise. "Luke!" he gasped, stepping into the room. "You're awake!" Suddenly seeming to remember that his parents were present, Phoenix turned to Clark and Brenda. "Listen, if it's not a good time, we can definitely come back, and – "

Clark gave the harried lawyer a brief smile and stood. "Hershel has told us about you, Mr. Wright. You're welcome to visit."

At that moment, Maya Fey barreled into the room, nearly knocking Phoenix over as she dashed to Luke's side. "Luke!" she cried, wrapping her arms around him. "You had us so worried!" To Luke's shock, he could feel tears as she pressed her cheek against his.

"H-Hey, be careful, Maya!" Phoenix protested, making his way over to them. "He might still have some injuries!"

Luke laughed as he returned Maya's embrace. "I'm fine, Mr. Wright, really," he said. "It doesn't hurt at all now!"

When Maya finally released him, sitting back with a smile, Phoenix knelt beside him and placed a broad hand on his shoulder. "I'm really glad to see you up and about," he said. Luke smiled and gave the lawyer a nod. Brenda shifted to the side so Maya could clamber up on the bed beside Luke, telling him about nothing in particular – just chattering, the way that Luke had come to find so endearing about her. As she spoke and he attempted to get a word in edgewise, Phoenix moved to sit beside Clark.

"Has Professor Layton been by?" Phoenix murmured so quietly that Luke could barely hear it.

Clark shook his head. "I believe he is still looking for Flora," he replied. "We wondered if perhaps you had crossed paths with him."

Phoenix shook his head. "Unfortunately not," he responded. "We haven't seen him since late the other night. Do you want me to go look - ?"

The sandy-haired man hummed in thought for a moment. "I believe Hershel will return," he finally said. "He has been…concerned, after all."

Phoenix made a soft noise. "He doesn't say much, but he didn't look well the other night."

Luke felt as if he were intruding on a private conversation and decided to return his full attention to Maya's gossiping when she puffed out her cheeks and lightly tugged on his ear to ensure he was still listening.

* * *

The moon was high in the sky by the time everyone began to wind down. The Tritons had quietly excused themselves an hour or so previously. At first Maya thought it strange that they would want to leave after their son had woken up, but Phoenix had gently reminded her that they likely needed some time to process their feelings in private. She had accepted this answer and continued to chat with Luke for some time.

Phoenix looked up from his notepad and chuckled softly at the sight of both children sound asleep. Though Maya was far from a child, at the moment with her face clear of any worry she looked so peaceful, young and childlike. Her arm was carelessly thrown across Luke's chest as her head took up most of his pillow. To his credit, the boy dealt with her embrace even in the depths of sleep.

Phoenix swallowed and realized how dry his throat was. Rising and stretching to work the kinks out of his back, he decided to wander down and see what sort of drinks were in the vending machines. He left as quietly as possible so as not to wake the sleeping kids.

Luke began to stir as footsteps entered the room. Perhaps Mr. Wright had left and come back? He sat up, carefully trying not to disturb Maya's slumber, but the color drained from his face as he saw the woman in the doorway.

"Emmy," he whispered, and she froze. Clearly she hadn't been expecting him to be awake. Her weight shifted to her back leg as if to run. "W-wait, don't go." His voice was barely above a murmur, but it was enough to briefly stop her. "Why are you here?"

There was a long pause before she answered. She exhaled slowly, turning her face towards the window. "I heard you had been hurt, and…I wanted to make sure you were…okay." At his confused look, she shrugged. "I still have my connections."

Luke managed a small smile. "I'm fine, Emmy," he said. She finally turned to face him, dark brown eyes shining in the moonlight, and Luke suddenly was able to identify the unknown color that he had seen in Sibyl's eyes. The thought made him choke up a little and he continued speaking. "You can come back," he said. "The professor and I – we forgive you, you know."

Emmy chuckled softly, turning away from him once more to hide the glimmer of her tears. "That time has passed," she said. "You're a sweet boy, but…it's for the best." She gave him one last smile before facing the doorway. "Be well, Luke."

Luke had always heard the saying that if you cared for someone, it was best to let them go. As much as he wanted to rush after Emmy as she stepped out of the room, he sensed that she had only appeared because she was expecting to remain unseen. As a courtesy to her and the memory of their friendship, he did not move. He lay back down next to Maya and he let Emmy leave, pretending to have been asleep as an exhausted Mr. Wright returned with canned tea.

* * *

Luke shifted as the sun's early rays began to peek into the hospital room. Maya was gone, as was Mr. Wright. He frowned and pushed himself into a sitting position, startled by the sight of someone else in the corner of the room. A petite figure sat alone in a chair in the corner, eyes fixed on the sewing in her hands. A knot asserted itself in his stomach as he recognized her.

"Flora," he called softly, and she nearly dropped her sewing. Her head jolted up and her eyes filled with tears as she left her stitching forgotten on the floor.

" _Luke,_ " she whispered, rising and moving slowly to his side. She stood hesitantly by his side, her hands wringing together. "Are you - ?"

He moved to the side, patting the now-vacant spot next to him. "I'm fine," he insisted. "Please, Flora, sit down?"

She nodded jerkily, sitting almost uncomfortably next to him. "I've been so worried about you," she murmured. "Things just…they haven't been the s-same without you at the flat…" Flora trailed off, eyes skittering down to look at her lap.

Guilt coursed through him as he remembered all of the horrible things that he had thought about Flora throughout his time in Validilene –  _in my coma_ , he reminded himself with a shudder – and he knew he had to make it right.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I'm so s-sorry, Flora…"

Her hands came up to her mouth as if she didn't know how to handle this turn of events. "Luke, why are you apologizing?" she said, her eyes filling with tears too. "You didn't do anything wrong – "

Luke wanted to tell her. He wanted to free himself of the guilt and tell Flora how he had been jealous and angry, knowing it would take the pain away from himself.

But then he looked at her face, eyes wide and tear-filled as she watched him stumble, and he knew he couldn't burden her with that knowledge. He quietly resolved to change his attitude from here on out and ensure that Flora never doubted that he cared for her.

Flora finally recovered, turning to wrap her arms around Luke in return. She had lost too many people in her young life, and she had come so close to losing Luke, too. The thought was enough to make tears threaten to fall once more, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

"The p-professor hasn't taken care of himself since you've been…away," Flora finally whispered. "He's been so worried about you, a-and I haven't been able to help him…"

Luke's fingers tightened in the fabric of Flora's dress. It was the first straight answer someone had given him about the professor so far, and it twisted his insides into even tighter knots. He wanted to ask where the man was, but he couldn't get the words out. Thankfully, Flora saved him from speaking by continuing her thought.

"He's just seeing Mr. Wright and Miss Fey out at the moment," she said. "They said they'll be back later, but wanted to get a few hours' sleep…"

Luke could only nod in reply. Sleeping curled against someone in a hospital bed couldn't have been comfortable for Maya, and Mr. Wright had fallen asleep in the chair with the canned tea hanging loosely from his fingertips the last time Luke had seen him.

Quiet footsteps entered the room, startling the children apart. Luke's breath caught as he saw Professor Layton standing in the doorway. A small smile appeared on his lips as he stepped further into the room.

"Flora," he murmured quietly, placing a gentle hand on her back. "Thank you for waiting, my dear. Would you give us a moment? The bakery next door has just opened for the morning; you may find Miss Fey and Mr. Wright there as well."

Flora nodded, recognizing that she was being dismissed but knowing that there was a conversation that needed to happen without her present. She retrieved her sewing and tucked it into her little bag before excusing herself.

Layton stood beside the hospital bed waiting as Flora's footsteps faded down the hallway. Luke felt oddly embarrassed to be stuck in a bed and shifted as if to try and stand. He was surprised when Layton's hand lay on his shoulder, wordlessly reminding him that staying in bed was best right now. The professor pulled a chair close to the bedside, seating himself in it.

Only then was Luke able to get a good look at Layton, and he realized with some horror that Flora had been right – the professor looked as if he hadn't slept properly in days; dark circles underlined his eyes and Luke noticed that his suit was a little more unkempt than he had ever remembered seeing it.

"Professor," he started at the same time that Layton began "Luke…"

Luke knotted his fingers in the blankets. "Professor," he said quietly. "I know that I should let you speak first, but I – I need to tell you something important."

"Luke, I – "

"Please, Professor!" Luke cried out, briefly but finally meeting Layton's eyes for the first time since he had entered the room. "I need to tell you that I'm so  _sorry!_  You wouldn't have been hurt if it hadn't been for me running away, a-and if I hadn't been so jealous of Flora, and you protected me even after I ran from you!" The entire thing was said in a single breath with his eyes shut tightly as if he couldn't bear to look Layton in the eye as he spoke. "A-and if you don't want me as your apprentice anymore…I understand!"

A long silence stretched out between them and Luke had flashbacks to the wordless apparition of the professor that had haunted his nightmares. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes more tightly in an attempt to ward off the tears he felt coming.

Layton cleared his throat, and Luke was surprised to hear that the professor's voice was a bit thicker as he spoke. "Luke, it appears that we need to have a conversation that has been…a long time coming. I owe you an explanation, my boy."

Luke continued to watch the blankets as if they were the most interesting thing in the world until Layton's hand lay on his shoulder once more. He was startled into looking up into the man's eyes as the professor spoke.

"I had…already realized that you were envious of Flora," Layton murmured. "I could not identify why for some time, however. She is my ward, having no family, and you have your family." Luke nodded and opened his mouth as if to speak, but Layton held up his free hand to ask Luke to wait. "I believe, Luke, that it is reminiscent of how you view me." Again the boy nodded, but did not elaborate. "We spend most of our time together, and – forgive my assumption – but I believe you have come to see me as…a sort of father figure?"

Luke let out a little breath and nodded. If they were revealing all, he might as well make his true feelings clear. "I don't…see dad a lot," he said. "I never have."

Layton gave a soft exhale as well. "I see," he finally replied. "Luke…there is something that your father and I have not told you. We have spoken, and we believe it would be best if you know the truth."

Luke forced himself to meet the professor's eyes, terrified of the truth that might be forthcoming. Was he right? Did Layton not want him as his apprentice anymore? Was the professor leaving London? Was he sick? Possibility after possibility began to chase itself around his mind, and Luke desperately attempted to focus on Layton's words.

The older man graced Luke with a small, tired smile. "I am your godfather, my boy. We have wanted to tell you for quite some time, but the moment was never quite right."

Luke's mouth dropped. Of all the possibilities he had considered, this…had not been one. He was so visibly dumbfounded that Layton felt the need to elaborate further.

"Ever since you were born, Luke, I have been entrusted with your care in the event that your parents were not able to do so. When we met in Misthallery for the first time and you asked to be my apprentice…well, we were frankly stumped as to how to tell you." The professor chuckled softly, closing his eyes. " You and I were hardly acquainted, after all, and we feared you would retreat into yourself once more if we told you then. We decided to go with it and have been waiting for a moment since then, but none have seemed right."

His eyes filled with tears. All along he had been seeking the professor's approval and love…and all along, it turned out that they were  _related_ in a manner.

Layton had cared about him from the start, before Luke ever knew that Layton was a person.

"My boy, you have nothing to apologize for. If anyone must, it is me." The boy's red-rimmed eyes trailed up to meet the Professor's exhausted expression. "You would not have fled had I been able to get my thoughts together and speak promptly."

"I shouldn't have run," Luke mumbled, staring down at the blankets, but Layton patted his shoulder.

"There is something that I wanted to tell you then, but failed to do so. Luke…" He waited until the boy had met his eyes before continuing. "Will you grant me the chance to tell you what I should have then?"

What else could he say to a request like that? Luke nodded, holding the Professor's gaze as the older man prepared to speak.

"Your question was…'what am I to you?'." Feeling slightly ashamed, Luke nodded in reply. "The answer to that is simple." Layton's voice dropped to a whisper and Luke leaned a little closer to hear him. "Luke…the truth is that I love you like my own son."

It was barely a moment later that Layton found himself with an armful of Luke, little arms wrapping tightly around him as the boy cried into his shoulder.

Much to Luke's surprise, Layton returned his hug, holding the boy close. There were no words between them as they remained in that embrace for some time.

Words had failed them before, but the silence allowed them to heal together.


End file.
